THE MOST DREADED DAY OF THE YEAR
by later2nite
Summary: Brian and Justin do Valentine's Day. Techgirl on LJ wrote this story with me.


THE MOST DREADED DAY OF THE YEAR

"What are you boys doing for Valentine's Day?"

Brian tore his eyes from the newspaper he was reading and stared at Debbie. "Excuse me?"

"Valentine's Day!" She pointed to all the sparkly red hearts and pleasingly plump Cupids with their arrows decorating the diner. "It's tomorrow!"

"Ben's taking me out to a fancy restaurant for dinner." Michael beamed at his husband.

Ted gave his partner a peck on the cheek. "Blake rented a quaint little cottage for two nights. We're leaving in a few hours."

"I hooked up with a guy online yesterday," Emmett said. "We have a hot date planned."

"Good for you, honey!" Deb smiled at Emmett, then she zeroed in on Justin. "So what about you two?"

Justin shrugged. "We don't celebrate."

"Of course you do! It's the most romantic day of the year!"

"I promise to fuck him senseless. Is that romantic enough for you, Ma?"

Deb flashed Brian a look, clearly disappointed. "You need to take care of Sunshine so he doesn't leave you for someone who brings him flowers."

Justin huffed out a laugh. "Believe me, that's not gonna happen."

"Again," Brian mumbled.

Debbie eyed both of them, sensing she'd missed something. "What'd you say?"

"Nothing." Brian finished his coffee and stood up. "Are you ready?"

Justin nodded, nudging past Ted on his way out of the booth. He grabbed Brian's arm and stopped him before they got to the car. "I won't. I made that mistake once, but it won't happen again. You know that, right?"

Brian had no answer.

"Oh, for God's sake. I don't want any fucking flowers. Can you just let it go?"

"Sure." Brian debated with himself over his next move. "Gotta get to the office. Papers to sign . . ."

"Later." Rising up on tiptoe, Justin kissed him, silently cursing St. Valentine and his fucking day. Would there ever be a year when February 14th came and went without its routine awkwardness? Shaking his head, Justin waited until Brian climbed into his Corvette, then he headed for the seafood market. With any luck, the next day might not be completely disastrous.

Brian drove off towards Kinnetik. After a slight detour, he stopped at a newly opened strip mall and went into the corner flower shop. He picked up a beautiful bouquet of roses, guaranteed to produce squeals of excitement from any gay guy in Pittsburgh. Reaching for his wallet, he paused and thought about it for awhile. Justin was fucking allergic to flowers. Why the hell would he want to make him sick? Just because some fucking 'love' holiday was coming up? Wouldn't Justin be happier if he didn't get flowers that caused him to sniffle and take medicine that made him tired and whiny? Shouldn't Brian get credit for knowing that would happen?

Tossing the bouquet back in the bucket, he stormed away from the nosy florist who'd been watching him. Brian walked outside and lit a cigarette, looking around at the other stores while he tried to come up with something that wouldn't make his dick shrink but would still be considered romantic enough to not fuck up the whole day. He rubbed his forehead with his palm. Would February 14th ever be a good day to live?

Brian dropped his half-smoked Marlboro in the gutter and found himself wandering up and down the neighboring grocery store's aisles. Bombarded with special Valentine displays of stuffed bears and heart-shaped candy boxes, he groaned under his breath. What could he get the kid that would make him happy? Certainly none of this stuff. He almost gave up and left, and then he remembered that Justin was running low on his favorite breakfast cereal. He grabbed the largest package of sugar coated, cavity inducing flakes they had, paid for it, and got the hell out of there.

Passing the Art Mart on his way home made him think of listening to Justin bitch and moan about forgetting to buy the colors he used most often and was always out of. Brian circled back and went in. When he came out, he was carrying a bag crammed full of expensive brushes and tubes of paint. He hoped it was enough to shut Justin up for a few weeks.

Brian sat in his car and checked out what he had so far. Even though he wasn't too impressed, he had a feeling it might be exactly what Justin wanted. A little more encouraged, he tried to remember which gallery Justin had mentioned wanting to visit. He googled the local galleries on his cell phone until he found the right one, quickly reading its hours of operation.

. . .

Brian opened his nightstand drawer the next morning and took out the one dildo that always managed to drive Justin crazy. He put it next to him on the bed with the lube, then he pulled the covers off of Justin and exposed his naked body. His eyes roaming his partner's pale skin, he used his fingertips to draw patterns on it until he reached Justin's bubble butt - the one he never seemed to get enough of. Gently spreading Justin's legs, he sat between them and leaned forward to kiss his neck. When Justin started to stir, Brian put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from turning over.

"What are you doing?" Justin's voice was muffled against the pillow.

"Seducing you."

"Oh, okay." Justin relaxed under his touch, moaning when he felt Brian's tongue lick down his spine.

Brian stopped before he got to Justin's crack to see what he'd do. He smiled appreciatively when Justin pushed his ass up towards him. "You want more?"

"Uh-huh."

Brian squeezed lube on the head of the dildo and slowly massaged it around Justin's opening, making him wet.

"That feels so good."

Brian worked two fingers inside of him and moved them in and out a couple of times before he pressed the toy against him. "Are you ready to be fucked?"

"Yeah."

Carefully pushing it in, Brian watched in amazement as it entered Justin's body. It was so fucking hot and dirty, the sounds coming out of Justin making his cock weep. "Do you like it?"

"God, yes!" Justin wiggled his ass towards Brian's hand. "I want all of it inside."

"Patience." Brian knew how much he loved the stretch, but it was fucking huge and he wasn't going to hurt him. Waiting for a second, he eased a couple of more inches in before he stopped again.

Justin panted and ground his cock into the sheets. "You're fucking torturing me!"

Brian laughed, but he slipped his hand around Justin's hips and stroked him a couple of times to give him some relief. His fingers drenched in precum, he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean.

Craning his neck around, Justin saw Brian's eyes glaze over when he tasted him. It was so hot he felt as if he'd come just from watching him. "More, Brian. Please!"

Brian smacked his ass cheeks, then he worked the dildo all the way in, pulled it out, and pushed it in again. Speeding up, he jerked himself off with the same rhythm, his cock so painfully hard he knew he wouldn't last long if he kept it up.

"Wait." Justin got on his hands and knees. "It's too good." He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down, then he started to rock backward, setting a pace that wouldn't make him come too soon.

Brian held the toy steady and watched Justin fuck himself on it. He loved how stretched his rim was and bent down to lick around it, causing Justin to writhe and shout with pleasure. "Do you want to come from the toy or from me fucking you?"

"What?"

"The toy or me?"

"I don't know." The annoyed tone in Justin's voice made Brian laugh. "Just get me off."

Brian slammed the dildo in, angling it to brush against Justin's prostate on every thrust. When he couldn't take the sight of it anymore, he pulled it out and threw it on the floor. He wrapped his arms around Justin's chest and pushed into him, fucking him hard and fast until they both exploded in orgasms.

"That was fucking hot." Justin breathed hard, lying down with Brian's cock still inside of him.

"You really like that dildo, don't you?"

"I love it when you fuck me with it. You always hit the exact right spots, and it's so wide and fits perfectly inside me."

"Kind of like my cock."

"Nothing like your cock." Justin reached back and patted Brian's shoulder. "No toy's ever that good."

. . .

After taking a leisurely shower together, Justin changed the bedsheets and straightened up their room while Brian made them breakfast. Justin's stomach was growling by the time he got down to the kitchen.

"Hey! You bought my cereal. Thanks!"

Brian nodded, continuing to read the news on his cell phone.

Justin looked over at him and caught the corner of his mouth twitch upward even though Brian tried his best to hide it. He was so onto him, but he knew better than to brag about it these days. The use of his favorite toy earlier wasn't lost on him either.

"Are you done?" Brian put his phone in his pocket.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Come on."

"Where're we going?"

"That gallery you've been wanting to visit is open today. We should leave now so you don't have to fight with everybody to see the paintings."

Justin refrained from throwing himself at Brian. "Oh, great!"

. . .

"What the fuck are you making? The whole house smells like shit." Brian ventured out of his study to see what Justin was up to. He hadn't really minded browsing through the gallery with him, but he'd been happy to spend a few hours working when an inspired Justin buried his nose in his art books as soon as they got home. Brian grimaced at the stove. Clams? "What_ is_ that?"

"Why don't you sit down and find out?"

Brian glanced around. Red and gold confetti on the table. Candles flickering. Love songs playing on the radio. He sighed deeply. How long would it take for Justin to learn that romance wasn't the way to get into his pants? "I'm going out."

"Okay." Totally focused on his cooking, Justin didn't even bother to look at him. "I just thought you'd like a dish of spaghetti alle vongole in rosso, but I won't mind eating all of it myself."

"What?"

"That dish we had in Campania. You talked about it for months after we left Italy. Every time you ordered it when we got home, you said it tasted like crap."

"You made it?"

"I called the restaurant and asked for the recipe."

Brian's eyebrows raised. "You called the restaurant in Italy?"

"Yep."

"And they gave it to you?"

"I can be very persistent when I want something." Justin grinned, finally looking up from the skillet.

"I know."

. . .

Sipping the last of his wine, Brian thought Justin would make one hell of an Italian chef if the art thing ever fell through.

"Did you like it?"

"It was okay."

Justin wasn't expecting a standing ovation, but the meal had tasted very close to the original to him. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin and stood up to clear the table.

Brian gripped his wrist when Justin bent forward to blow out the candles. He pulled him down onto his lap. "It was fucking amazing."

Justin did his best to rein in his smile. "Do you think a Valentine's Day will ever pass when one of us doesn't freak out?"

"Doubtful."

"You know I don't really care about all this romantic shit, right?"

"Justin." Brian waited for Justin to look at him. "I know just how fucking much you care, and I also know I'll never be able to give you what you want. That's what's freaking me out."

"Are you serious?"

Brian shrugged.

"Dildo . . . cereal . . . gallery . . . How much more do you think I need to be happy?"

"Expensive brushes and the paint you're always out of?"

"What?"

"Wait right here." Brian sidled out from under him and went to his study. He handed Justin the bag from the art shop a minute later.

Justin peeked inside of it. "Oh, my God, Brian!" Trying to mask his elation was hopeless. He held the brushes close to his face. "I've been dreaming of these! And the paints! How did you . . .?"

"I'm not deaf, Sunshine."

"See? You're so good at this!" Justin laid the brushes on the table and flung his arms around Brian's neck. "Maybe next year you'll even buy those flowers."

"Jesus Christ. Did that fucking florist put up a billboard screaming of the one queer in the whole city who failed to buy flowers for the love of his life?" His words may have been dripping with sarcasm, but Brian's grasp tightened on Justin's hips.

"Not that I know of. I kind of saw you in there when I was walking to the seafood market."

Brian buried his face in Justin's neck. "I was going to buy them. I just didn't want to set off your allergies."

"That's very considerate of you."

"Yeah, well, all your sneezing and wheezing right next to me makes it impossible to sleep."

"Red roses." Justin's voice was almost a whisper.

"Huh?"

"Red roses," he repeated a little louder. "They're the only ones I'm not allergic to."

Brian closed his eyes for a second. He'd been so fucking close to bringing red roses home to Justin all those years ago.

"They can't compare to this, though." Justin waved the bag in front of him. "This is just what I need to finish up that piece I've been working on for the last week."

"Yeah, I know. You kept me up for an hour the other night, ranting about the stupidity of selling paint in such small quantities."

Justin laughed. "So next year maybe we should do what Ted and Blake did and rent a cottage?"

"Whatever." Brian was fucking tired. He didn't want to think about the following year's day from hell. But he had Justin Taylor for a partner.

"I was googling gay resorts, and there's this place in New York that looks really amazing. Nude beaches, naked waiters . . . clubs with back rooms. I think you'll approve. It's called—"

"Fire Island Pines."

"You've heard of it?!" Justin reached into his back pocket and removed the info he'd printed out, handing the papers to Brian.

Brian went for his phone. "Yeah, I've heard of it. It's only the gayest place on earth. I'll call for reservations."

"Don't bother. I already booked it. We leave on February 12th next year."

"I love you." It just slipped out. Brian was actually okay with that.

"I know. Can you clean up so I can finish the painting?" Justin yelped when Brian smacked his ass.

They'd survived yet another most dreaded day of the year.


End file.
